“I wish you two would not fight,” Damara said, and guilt twisted in my gut. Something in her tone made me feel like a child caught out by their parent. She had been like a mother to you at one time, I chided myself, but that was before, without a past that meant nothing now.
*~*~*
Hilliard attended us to the Hall of Entertainment, and I took comfort in his unassuming presence. My resolve to expose their plot had not made me feel any easier among the judgmental stares of courtiers. Johai also appeared to grow tense with each step. He held his hands clenched at his sides, and his eyes scanned about.
I turned to scan the room, thinking to avoid Johai’s probable sharp commentary. The Hall of Entertainment, designed like a parlor, was surrounded by high arched windows facing the Eastern Sea and took advantage of the breeze. Spray from the crashing waves at the base of the cliff on which the palace stood scented the air wafting in. Young courtiers lounged about like sunning cats, cards held loosely in their hands, and their gazes skimmed our trio as we made our way through the crowded room.
If any of them remembered that I had collapsed at the banquet, they did not show it. Indeed, they seemed disinterested in us. Shouts from across the room drew my gaze. A dark-haired man threw down a handful of cards.
“Once more you’ve bested me, Princess,” he said, a smirk lighting his dark eyes. “Is this some sort of magic you use?”
The crowd laughed, and I strained to hear her reply, half-hoping her voice would divulge some hidden secrets, but the space was too great and the crowd around her too large. She laughed at his jest, and her dark eyes darted around the room. She’s gauging their reactions after the other night, I realized. At her shoulder, a man I presumed to be her guard leaned in and whispered in her ear. She tilted her head up towards him to listen, and a small smile pulled at her lips. Her understated beauty was entrancing. I could see why people gathered about her. But why the outrage at the banquet? More than ever, I was desperate to talk to her. If not only to unravel the diviner’s clues, but to understand better the court’s mercurial feelings toward her.
“I didn’t think Princess Sabine was popular here at court,” I remarked to Johai, unthinking.
He glanced in the princess’s direction. “Not amongst the Houses, but merchants have shorter memories.”
I furrowed my brow. “Merchants?”
“Merchants’ children. Quit gawking, you’ll attract unwanted attention to yourself.”
I scowled at Johai. I wondered if he took pleasure in being surly and bit back a retort. I would hate to cross him and have him lock me up once again. Though I suspected his real concern was drawing attention to himself. What secrets he kept, I could only guess. In light of my objectives, they meant little to me at the time. I cast about the room for an excuse to move closer to the princess. My concern for Johai was passing when I spotted, a short distance from the princess, an inlaid table with carved figures upon it. I walked over to it and picked up a marble playing piece.
“We used to play together, do you remember?” Hilliard regarded me with a wistful expression.
I set the piece back down and shook my head. I felt guilty, as if I had willfully forgotten the connections of my previous life.
“Will you play? I can teach you again.” He motioned towards the board.
I peered at the princess and her companions. The dark-eyed, young man dealt cards.
I took a seat at the table. “I would love to.”
“Then I will explain the rules.”
As he explained, Johai absconded himself to a far corner, arms folded over his chest. He glared at me, watchful as a bird of prey. I mused on ways to slip away from Johai’s watchful presence. I needed to speak to the princess, preferably alone. I thought about the diviner’s clues once again and failed to make sense of them. How was the princess related to me? What did she hold to unlock my past?
“Still with me, lass?” Hilliard gently prodded me with an index finger.
I jerked my attention back to him. “Yes, shall we begin?”
“Aye, you take your turn first.”
I stared down at the carved pieces that Hilliard had arrayed on the board. I reached for one and then retracted my hand, uncertain.
“Typically you start with this piece.” He brushed his finger against a round-topped piece in the first row facing the center of the board. “Or this.” He touched a piece carved in the shape of a horse head with a gem for the eye.
“Like this?” I moved one of the pieces from the front forward two spaces, something about the action seemed familiar.
Hilliard smiled, revealing a gaped-tooth grin. “Perhaps you remember more than you thought.”
I forced a laugh and amended silently, if only.
My memory refreshed, we played. My mind elsewhere, I lost spectacularly. However, the princess and her entourage seemed happy where they were and showed no signs of departing. I reasoned it would be best to approach her when she was alone as to avoid unnecessary questions from unrelated parties. I asked for a rematch, and Hilliard was obliged to play again. The second was longer than the first. Hilliard made no concession this time, and I turned my attention to the challenge. Once, I thought I may have cornered him. I had backed his king into one corner of the board, and my rook and queen blocked any possible move he could make.
“I think I may have won,” I said with an air of triumph.
Hilliard leaned forward in response to move his remaining pawn to take my queen.
“Do not speak before the last move has been made,” Hilliard said.
The move left my king vulnerable to his knight and forced me to admit defeat.
I studied the board, my mind working through my final moves, trying to find where I had gone wrong. “I underestimated your pawn,” I admitted.
“That was a fatal mistake. You should never underestimate any piece left in play on the board.”
I nodded, thinking over his advice, my mind working through a new play to defeat him the next round. “I want a rematch,” I said.
He laughed as he set up the board. I forgot about the princess and my half-fledged schemes. This time I was confident I would not lose. And so our third match began.
The third lasted the longest yet. I had a firmer grip on the game, and Hilliard paused in thought before each move. The harder I concentrated, the more my head buzzed. Hilliard surveyed the board, brows furrowed. His hand flexed over a piece before retracting and moving his chattel.
“Poor choice,” I muttered under my breath as he shifted his pawn.
“Oh?”
“See here. Now, my rook is positioned to take your knight.”
“Ah, but as you see, moving your rook will leave open your queen.”
I examined the board, and a smile curled my lips. He was correct. I was preparing to chastise him for helping me to beat him when someone swore behind me.
“Great Goddess, I cannot believe it.” I looked over my shoulder, realizing too late a few people had gathered around us in a half circle. I turned away from them, a hot blush burning my neck and face. I was so absorbed in the game I did not notice the onlookers. I took a deep breath in an attempt to regain my composure, but still the butterflies churned in my stomach. I hated crowds, and I hated even more being the center of attention. Across the table, Hilliard smiled at his own triumph, perhaps even pleased by the way the crowd discomfited me. I closed my eyes and took another deep breath. When I opened them, I scoured the board. And there it was: a move so obvious, it shocked me Hilliard missed it.
“Check.”
Hilliard shrugged before moving his king smoothly within line of my chattel. “I’ve never really been one for games.” A smile twisted his mouth. “Or maybe I taught you too well. Go on and have it.”
I took the piece and won the game.
Layton emerged from the dispersing crowd.
“I never thought I’d see the day you’d lose at a game of chess, Hilliard.” Then turning to me, he said, “And you, beaut
iful and a strategist, a dangerous combination.”
I blushed at the compliment.
“Hilliard,” Layton continued, “it seems my mother is bereft without your attendance, and I have been dispatched to attend upon Lady Maea and her companion.” He smiled, flashing his white teeth. It unsettled me that he avoided using Johai’s name in public. A part of me hoped Layton was free of his mother’s machinations, but it appeared I hoped in vain.
Hilliard rose and bowed to Layton. “I will let you have the leave of it, then.” He moved in close to Layton then and said, “Have a care, Layton. I’d hate to report ill of you to your lady wife at home with the babe.”
“There’s no worry because I’ve done naught wrong.” He grinned, noticing me eavesdropping. I lowered my gaze, and Layton laughed. Hilliard bowed again and took his leave.
“Tell me, Maea, how did you manage to beat one of the king’s former strategists at chess?” Layton eased himself onto a chaise.
My surprise left me ill prepared for a response. I had been so distracted by my discomfort I had not given thought to why the courtiers gathered to watch us play. How could I have beaten him? Then I remembered my last move. He threw the game, but why?
“Maea and Hilliard have been playing for years,” Johai interjected.
How would Johai know such a thing? Was he bluffing? Nothing in my memories of my past involved Johai. Indeed, one of my clearest memories after the loss of my memories was meeting Johai.
Layton’s gaze drifted over to Johai, who stood beside his couch, arms crossed. “So I see. ’Tis still quite a feat in my esteem.”
“Thank you,” I whispered and looked down at my clasped hands. Mayhap he didn’t know the full breadth of his mother’s plans, but Layton played the game of intrigue in his own way. I am merely a pawn in a game too big to comprehend.
“Why are you here, really, Layton?” Johai asked.
Layton turned to me, ignoring Johai. “Lady Maea, there’s no need to hover, join me. I’d like to know more about my mother’s protégée.”
I took a seat in a nearby chair, and Johai likewise took a seat to my left.
“There is not much to tell,” I said.
“And even if there were, she is not beholden to you,” Johai interrupted.
Layton took his gaze from me and leveled Johai with a stare. “That may be true, but I’d like to see what the product of six years of my mother’s time and interest has wrought.”
I’m sure there would have been further discussion had the fight not broken out. At first it sounded like the exchange of some overzealous boasting but quickly arose in intensity and anger.
“You do my Great House a dishonor!” a man, streaks of grey in his dun-colored hair, shouted at the dark-eyed youth whom I had seen playing cards with the princess. “I demand an apology!”
“For me having bested you at cards?” he said. “I think not.”
“You are a cheat. All of you are cheats!” His face turned purple in rage.
“I resent that comment, sir.”
“You will show me the respect my title deserves. I served his majesty in the war. I did not lose this,” he held aloft a hand missing an index finger, “to the Goddess-forsaken Neaux so the likes of you could flirt and carry on. I can trace my family line back to the time of the first king! Can you even vouch for the seed that sired you?”
I stared at his hand in a trance, the hand from my dreams, the one that had wrapped around my throat, trying to squeeze the life out of me. It’s him. It has to be. I instinctively grasped for my necklace, but it gave none of its usual comfort.
The young man’s face colored, accentuating the deeper color of his eyes and hair, similar to those of Princess Sabine. I wondered if there was Neaux blood in his family tree.
“My lord,” he said, “I am the heir to Duke Sixton, and though I was not born as high as some feel they were,” he paused and lifted a brow at the lord, “I will one day be your superior! And even now I possess enough money and influence to buy your title and deflower your daughter without the need for antiquated titles.”
A young woman I assumed to be the lord’s daughter squealed and covered her mouth with her hand. A few men moved in to break up the squabble too late. The lord lunged for the young merchant, and a dagger glinted in his hand. Layton jumped to his feet in trice and ran to help wrest the two apart. I glimpsed the lord swinging the blade, but the young man jumped out of reach and landed a blow on the lord’s chin. He fumbled backwards, presumably knocked off balance by the hit.
In the midst of the ruckus, Princess Sabine and her guard slipped out the back of the room. I was torn between following her and confronting the man with the missing finger. But what if it isn’t him and I lose my one chance to talk to the princess? Johai stepped between me and the fight. He faced the fighting, his hands at the ready as if he meant to block me from it. I peered around him. They pulled the lord off the young merchant. Blood trickled down the lord’s chin from a split lip. The young merchant brushed off his breeches, not a scratch on him. A pair of court guards stepped up and, after a brief exchange, escorted the lord from the Entertainment Hall, and his daughter trailed after.
In the aftermath, the young merchant joked with Layton, who smiled good-naturedly and patted him on the back. Johai watched them, and I used the opportunity to slip out after the lord.
The fight ended, the courtiers returned to more gentile activities. Courtiers scattered across the hall, a few recounting the brawl to those that had missed the spectacle. The lord and his daughter walked briskly down the hallway. He threw his hands up as he spoke in low tones with his daughter. Princess Sabine was nowhere in sight, and I took it as a good of a sign as any to pursue the lord. They turned a corner just as I gained them. I had not intended to eavesdrop, but I seemed to be doing it a lot as of late.
“You should not have done that. We agreed not to draw attention to ourselves,” she hissed.
“I know.” He sighed raggedly. “But I could not stand that smug look upon his face as he gathered my good coin.”
I pressed myself against the wall, craning my neck to hear more but fearing to be caught. What I thought I would discover, I wasn’t sure, but a nagging feeling told me to listen.
“It should have been today. Before the remaining Houses are swayed into agreeing to the marriage.”
“You’re right, but there’s still time. The chancellor of presence assures me—”
“Bite your tongue. She has ears everywhere.”
“You’re right.” His sword sung as he unsheathed it.
I pressed back against the wall, my hand fumbling, praying for a gap in which to hide. I was lucky a nearby niche holding a large decorative vase had just enough space for me. I slid in beside it by sucking in my chest. It was a tight fit, and I disappeared inside just in time because the lord’s next words were, “We are alone. Don’t worry, daughter, these blasted merchants can try, but those true to the old ways will not see it done. ’Tis just a gambit at this point.”
“Well, for both our sakes, let us hope it’s true. We cannot let them put her on the throne.”
“I agree. She cannot live, I will see it done.”
I bit back a gasp.
The woman hushed him. “What was that?”
My heart pounded in my chest, and I feared discovery and most assuredly death to keep me silent. I struggled to slide out from betwixt the wall and vase only to find my bodice caught. I was trapped as a rabbit in a snare. Their footsteps drew closer, and I closed my eyes, preparing for the inevitable.
“Count Braun, Lady Braun, well met,” Johai said. He stopped just beyond my hiding place and blocked me from view.
“And you, your grace,” Lady Braun replied.
“I am looking for my lady’s charge. Have you seen anyone pass by this way?”
“No, we have seen no one. We stopped because I thought I had torn my shoe.”
“Do you need assistance? I can call for a servant.”
�
�No thank you, your grace. It seems I was mistaken.”
Their footsteps receded, and I stared at the cable of Johai’s white hair in disbelief. He protected me. Moreover she had called him your grace. What did it mean? He rounded on me, brows arched.
“Why were you between the vase and the wall?” he asked, bemused.
My head spun with a million thoughts. I was certain they had been plotting Princess Sabine’s death; that’s what my vision had tried to warn me of. I had been blinded by my own concerns and had not realized it until now. I did not want to think on the mystery of Johai, but there was that too. My tongue felt thick, and my head ached in confusion. Johai frowned and worked to free me. I exhaled once he loosed me and grabbed a hold of his wrist for balance. He stared at our contact as if burned. I dropped his hand and stumbled back, clutching the wall.
“Maea, what is wrong with you?” he said, his voice tight. Had panic not been rising in me like a tide, I may have thought he was concerned for me.
“They’re planning on killing Princess Sabine.”
Chapter Five
“We have to stop them!”
“It’s not that simple,” Damara said whilst pinching the bridge of her nose. The room grew dim, and servants lit candles and set them in sconces around the room. Their forms threw long shadows onto the walls, and I shivered, thinking of the specter from my visions. Damara and I had been arguing since earlier that afternoon.
“But we can’t let him just kill her,” I insisted.
“And we cannot accuse a peer of the realm of murder and treason without proof.”
“What about my vision? And besides, you heard them!” This I directed at Johai.
He leaned against the far wall, head bowed. Candlelight flickered over his face, and his eyes appeared hollow as if he looked at me through a mask. “I didn’t hear anything. I only saw you trapped and apparently eavesdropping on the count and his daughter.”
My hands balled into fists at my side. It outraged me, apparently any truce we had come to when he’d protected me ended here. He only protected me because he needs me, I reminded myself. Why risk the princess’s death? Even if I was wrong and I had jumped to conclusions, what difference did it make when lives were on the line. Unless the princess’s death was to their benefit, to the plan’s benefit. I glared at them with a new perspective. I hated to think Damara would think so little of a life, but I had learned the hard way the truth was relative. I touched the necklace at the hollow of my throat, and anger boiled beneath the surface.
Diviner's Prophecy (Book One Diviner's Trilogy) Page 5